Three First Times
by moonpiece
Summary: (And a fourth.) Mel/Stella/Lydia; A series of firsts.


Three First Times

The first time Mel and Stella touched, it felt as natural as breathing in and out.

They sat together on the small bed in their apartment in Thais' low-rent district, the only light in the room filtering in through the window from the street lamps, and the only sound in the room their gasps of laughter.

"Tell me another one!" Stella pleaded.

Mel scrunched up her face in thought. "Alright, so...one day after class, Edward and I went to the tavern, and this moron comes up to him and asks why the prince is hanging out with a commoner, right? And Edward's about to draw his sword on the guy, but I just happened to have a rat in my pocket, so I take it out and the guy SCREAMS, I swear he must've jumped five feet back-"

"You should've thrown it at him," Stella giggled.

Mel gasped in mock surprise. "Who knew you could be so mischievous, Stella?"

Stella twirled a lock of purple hair between her fingers, feigning innocence. "For all you know, I could've been a thief like you. Maybe we even met in a street fight, and you didn't recognize me because I was in disguise."

"What ho, a foe? I'll have to use my secret weapon - rat attack!" Mel grinned and grabbed a pillow, and launched it at Stella, propelling herself right into the Naylithian.

The two landed one on top of the other, Stella wedged between Mel and the bed. Mel had half a mind to be embarrassed. She had never experienced casual touching between friends before - or a friend before, period - and certainly not in such an awkward position. But this was Stella, and Stella was safe and laughing and everything Mel had never known but better than she'd ever imagined. The two locked eyes for a moment, and Stella tilted her head up to meet Mel's, joining their lips in a chaste kiss.

Mel pulled back tentatively. She was glad the lights were off, as the darkness masked her uncharacteristic blush. And then the two burst into sweet laughter again.

The first time Stella and Lydia touched, Lydia was in pain.

Stella laid a gentle hand on Lydia's shoulder, and Lydia flinched.

"I'm sorry, I have to touch you to heal. Do you want me to stop?" she asked earnestly.

"No, I'm fine. Just...just do it." Lydia tensed slightly under Stella's hand.

She didn't back away when Stella repositioned herself so they were face-to-face, her other arm steadying Lydia's good shoulder. A wave of warmth pulsed through her, soothing her injuries, and a different kind of warmth spread through her as Stella pulled her into a hug and held her as the wounds knit themselves back together. The wind rustled their skirts, Stella's white slip of a dress lifting up along with the layers of Lydia's gown.

When it was over, Stella pulled back, her emerald eyes full of unreserved empathy. Normally Lydia hated when people doted over her when she was sick, or tried to smother her with saccharine-sweet affection, but there was something so earnest about the other woman's gaze. It made her want more, but unlike jewelry and dresses and the favors of the rich, this wasn't something that could be purchased. Lydia would have to earn the favor of this mysterious and kind woman, but she wasn't sure how. She wasn't sure if she was worthy of it.

"Better?" Stella asked. She sweetly moved a green curl back into place, and Lydia couldn't help but notice how well her hair matched Stella's eyes.

Lydia couldn't resist a small smile in return. "Yeah. Thanks."

And when Stella's hand slid down her arm to join with hers, her deft healer's fingers twining with Lydia's manicured, flame-scarred ones, neither of them could resist a grin.

The first time Mel and Lydia touched, they were dying.

"We're all going to die," Lydia shouted. "This is all your fault, street rat!"

The party was stuck in a blizzard in the Istir Forest. They had been traveling to Aveyond, but the storm had become too dangerous, so they had to take refuge in a cave for the night.

"No one forced you to come with us, Lydia, so quit whining," Mel hissed.

The argument was broken up by the sharp slice of a sword that rang throughout the cavern. Edward cleared his throat when all eyes landed on him. "Ulf and I are going to get firewood. Te'ijal and Galahad will stand watch by the mouth of the cave. Stella, stay here in case anyone needs healing. And make sure these two stop fighting," he added, with a disappointed glance toward Mel. Stella felt a swell of gratitude in her chest for her friend, who was shaping up to be a fine leader.

She turned sympathetically towards Mel and Lydia. "You can share the blanket in the knapsack if you want. I don't need it...I guess I'm used to the cold, with Naylith being higher than even the mountains."

"No way I'm sharing with [i]her[/i]," Lydia snapped at the same time Mel said, "I'll take it." Her bare legs trembled as she hurried over to accept the blanket. Stella draped it snugly over her friend's shoulders as she rubbed Mel's arms to warm her up.

Lydia lasted all of five minutes shivering in the corner pretending like she wasn't freezing.

"Give me that," she said as she tried to pry the blanket from Mel's grip.

Stella watched a brief tug-of-war play out before they awkwardly settled with the blanket wrapped around both of them and their arms tangled together. Both tried valiantly to resist touching, but the lure of the other's body heat was too strong to resist.

"Stella, come help me with the firewood," Edward called from the entrance.

After the fire had been built, all of them felt a little more at ease. Whatever came next seemed easier to face when at least there was warmth in your fingertips. Of course, it was still cold out - not that Stella noticed much, but that would be the only sensible explanation for Mel and Lydia still sharing a blanket, pressed up against one another peacefully, almost amicably.

And that blush on their cheeks - well, that was probably the cold too.

And a Fourth

Light.

After so long in darkness, the daylight beats against Stella's eyelids. It was so much. Too much. She wanted to crawl back to wherever she had been before, although she couldn't remember now. Her cocoon? She's a butterfly; surely that must be it. But no, that's not right, she can't feel her wings. She had wings where she had just been, didn't she? A sob escapes her throat at the thought of losing her wings for a second time.

"Stella?" A familiar voice breaks the suffocating silence.

She cracks open her eyes.

The light threatens to blind her again, but a hand against her cheek grounds her. Not the same hand as the person who the voice belongs to - a different one, but just as familiar. Her vision clears, and blue and green come into focus. Mel's twilight blue eyes and Lydia's emerald green hair. The same colors of the world she loved so much and that she's suddenly glad she didn't leave behind.

Two hands tighten in each of hers.

"Welcome home."


End file.
